The cobblestones would turn to cashmere carpets
All of the Bibles would be mere pamphlets
The buildings would all bow down
All faces won't show no frown
Just to warmly welcome the city's legend
Weather would once again break and bend
The street names would translate themselves
All of my books, jumping from the shelves
The beaches would blow wave after wave
All tides would be mighty and brave
Just to accommodate my country's new king
The sun would smile, the moon would sing
The sidewalks would sway to his steps without other choice
All of the valleys would dance to the rhythm of his voice
The scriptures would tear themselves apart
All of the museums would grow a heart
Just so he could call my motherland his very own
Just so he could feel like a king who's coming home.